That's Right, It's Another Soulmate AU
by AshlynCouslandTheirin
Summary: Three words. She'd been staring at it for a good hour at least now, and that was all the information she had deciphered. It was three words, and she couldn't read any of them.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guess who's still alive andistotallygonnaupdateLifeMatesoonIpromise

* * *

Three words.

She'd been staring at it for a good hour at least now, and that was all the information she had deciphered.

It was three words, and she couldn't read any of them.

"I...don't think it's going to change no matter how hard you stare at it, sis."

Sara sighed, ignoring her brother for the moment. She did glance away long enough to check the time, seeing that it was now 1:07am. She and her brother had been up since 9:00am the previous day, excited beyond reason for what would be happening that night at midnight. It was their twentieth birthday as of an hour ago now, and their marks had appeared, as happened to nearly everyone when they turned twenty. Around 11:30pm Scott had come into Sara's room grinning and rambling about some vid he'd seen. He tended to babble when he was nervous, whereas Sara was the opposite and became nearly silent. The both knew he was there so they could see their marks for the first time together, as they'd planned since they were kids, but both chose to ignore it. The prospect of finally seeing the names of their soulmates was suddenly right there in front of them, and it proved more nerve-wracking than either of them had thought.

At one minute to midnight, Scott's strained chatter finally faded, and they shared a look before holding up their arms, palms turned upward, waiting for the marks. And to their surprise, neither had been in an Earth language.

"At least yours _means_ something," Sara snapped irritably, then winced at how petulant she sounded.

"So does yours," Scott pressed, unoffended. "Just because you don't recognize the language doesn't mean it doesn't exist." He glanced again at his own mark, indecipherable currently, but unmistakably Turian. Sara suspected he was itching to see if he could translate it, but was holding off due to her dilemma. _Good,_ she thought, indulging in some selfishness for a moment. This was supposed to be a big moment, and of course fate had gone and mucked it up for her. She resisted the childish urge to stamp her foot.

She heaved another sigh. "Okay sure, but what does _that_ mean? Not recognizing the language? I mean...Scott what if they're on the other side of the universe or something? They may be my soulmate, but what if we never get to meet?"

"Everyone meets their soulmate someday," Scott said quietly.

"Not _everyone_ ," Sara corrected, trying for a gentler tone. Scott didn't deserve her ire. "Some people never get marks at all, and every now and then you hear the odd story of someone whose mark disappeared or something." It was rumored that if the mark disappeared before you met your soulmate, it meant they had died, but it was difficult to prove. "And hell, maybe it doesn't mean anything," she continued miserably. "Maybe it's just...pointless scribbles." Appalled to realize she was fighting tears, Sara angrily turned her arm away, tucking the mark out of sight.

Scott was silent.

Minutes passed by, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, until Scott began fidgeting, his curiosity beginning to get the best of him. Feeling guilty, Sara turned toward him.

"I'm sorry Scott, I ruined this whole thing for you."

"Oh, no you didn't," he immediately started protesting and she held up a hand to stop him.

"I did a little. And I'm sorry. Just accept the apology, 'cause you're not getting another one out of me." That coaxed a small smile from him. "C'mon, let's see if we can figure out what yours says," she suggested, hopping up from the bed so they could do some research.

Scott accepted her hand when she held it out to help, pulling himself upright. "Yeah, that sounds good," he replied, clearly trying not too sound too excited for his sister's sake, but the brightness of his eyes betrayed him. Not that Sara could blame him. As they slipped quietly through the house to the family terminal, Scott piped up. "You know Mom's gonna ask about the marks first thing in the morning, right?"

"Yep."

"Do you know what you're gonna tell her?"

"Nope."

There was another tense moment of silence before Sara wryly asked "Think Dad will ask?"

"...Probably not."

* * *

Two years later, still reeling from the death of their mother, Sara and Scott sat in her bedroom once again, now devoid of all furniture save for the mattress. Tomorrow they would board Ark Hyperion, go into stasis, and hurtle silently through dark space for over 600 years before exploring an entirely new galaxy.

To say they were nervous would be an understatement.

Scott was uncharacteristically quiet, and had been since their mother had passed. It had been so odd to Sara she'd found herself talking more, in an unconscious effort to compensate for the silence. Her words often came out awkward and fumbling, but she felt the need to be strong for her brother, and he seemed to appreciate it. She reached up and squeezed his shoulder.

"...Maybe you'll meet Vetra there," she said weakly, unsure if that was at all what he wanted to hear. Relief bloomed when he gave her a little smile and touched his arm where the mark hid beneath his shirt.

"Yeah...and maybe you'll meet whoever that is," he offered, nodding to her arm where the edge of the mark could be seen peeking from behind the fabric. She tugged on her sleeve self-consciously.

"Yeah, maybe." Her response sounded half-hearted even to her own ears, and she knew she hadn't fooled Scott.

Normally Scott would have sighed and told her for possibly the ten-thousandth time that her soulmate was out there somewhere, but his quiet spell remained. Sara thought of their father, Ellen's name written in elegant cursive on his left arm, the direct opposite of the plain no-nonsense script of his name on hers, and wondered if he had been as baffled by his own mark. Or if he had had the same quiet confidence that it had given Scott, knowing his soulmate was out there somewhere, regardless of how different his mark seemed to imply she was.

Sara leaned her head on Scott's shoulder, thinking of their mother, and felt Scott rest his jaw on her hair. And if she felt tears drip onto her skin, she pretended not to notice, just as he ignored the ones staining his shirt.

* * *

This had to be some kind of joke. It was just too unfair. Too cruel.

She'd traveled for six hundred years to a new galaxy, and hopefully, a new start, already short a family member, only to have her brother go into a coma and their father give his life for hers. Leaving her completely alone with the expectations of her entire species on her shoulders.

And now, she was standing here in front of her brother's soulmate.

"Vetra, Vetra Nyx," she'd said, as if the name wouldn't stun Sara to her very bones. Of course, there was no reason for Vetra to know they would, but Sara found herself unexpectedly angry, _furious,_ and wanting to throw blame at whomever she could. It was just so _unfair,_ and she couldn't think of a single thing she had done in her life to warrant karma of this caliber. She gets these meaningless scribbles on her arm instead of the name of her soulmate, meets the woman destined for her brother, who she can't even talk to, and she still _alone,_ and, and...

She wants very badly to hit something.

* * *

After a very brief introduction to Vetra's sister, Sara's new crewmate launches into an explanation of how she will be of use on the ship, and Sara feels a bit bad about her earlier anger (though she reserves the right to change her mind at any time until everything in her life stops figuratively exploding.) Vetra reveals a surprising vulnerable side, eager to assure Sara that she will be pulling her weight. It makes her wonder how old the turian is.

An awkward silence falls on them, at least on Sara's part. She peers at Vetra, trying to remember how exactly it is that Turians connect to their soulmates, when she breaks the silence. "Hey, did we...meet in the Milky Way once or something? You seem really familiar."

Sara blinks and shakes her head. "No, I don't think so." She bites her tongue to keep from saying that she would remember too, considering Vetra's name was on her brother's wrist.

"Hm. Must just be my imagination." She shrugs and turns away, the conversation coming to a natural close.

Halfway to her new quarters, Sara suddenly remembers that Turians hear their soulmate's voice like a song in their head, and she wonders just how much she sounds like Scott.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaal remembered when Finn and Koana had their first dreams come, within a day of one another. They had been the first of siblings to get them, and it had been an exciting day for their family. Koana, after receiving her dream, proclaimed she could feel the emotions of her true-match somewhat, but Finn could not yet. It only meant that Koana's true-match was nearer than Finn's was – in time, he would sense echoes of their feelings as well, when the distance between the two of them had lessened enough. One by one, each of his siblings and cousins received their own dreams, and felt the emotions of their true-matches with varying degrees of intensity. Teviint, in particular felt her match's emotions so starkly that she had trouble discerning which feelings were her own. They met within a matter of weeks.

 _The dreams will come,_ Jaal's mother told him when it began to seem that all of the children his age would get them before he did. _They do for us all. The waiting will only make your meeting your true-match that much sweeter. Give it time._

And he did. He gave it a year, and then two, and when three went by and everyone he knew had had their dreams – and some had even already met their true-matches – he came to the sad realization that the dreams would never come for him. He was well into his adolescence now, far past the time that he should have had the first of many dreams about his true-match, where he would have seen their smile, perhaps their eyes, gestures of their hands; quick, short-lived images of their daily life that never seemed to give anyone a clear view of their true-match, but gave them hope nonetheless. Along with the dreams, he would have begun to feel echoes of their emotions, and the closer he was to them, the stronger the emotions would have become.

Instead Jaal saw his friends and relatives begin to eye him with curiosity, and eventually pity. His mothers attempted to comfort him, and his siblings tried to offer guidance, but there was little they could do in the face of Jaal's lonely future. And as young people often do, his peers would whisper about him knowing he could hear, and theories of why he was so different began to circulate. The situation was tragic enough that no one was outright rude to him, and some even went out of their way to be friendly, but regardless he was still labeled as "other."

As Jaal grew he accepted his fate with disappointment, but acceptance. For whatever reason, fate had decided he was not meant to have a partner in this lifetime. In an attempt to distract himself from the loneliness that inevitably tugged at his heart as he watched others find their matches over the years, he dedicated himself to many tasks, throwing the entirety of himself into the work, until he was more than proficient in all of them. His family praised his skills, and with the work came confidence; but underneath it all, there was always a sense of emptiness.

 _Strands of red silk fluttering on a warm breeze – the tightening of pink fingers on a strange weapon – a breathless laugh coming between tired gasps of air – a fleeting glimpse of alien, blue-green eyes -_

Jaal came awake with a gasp, multiple sensations assaulting him at once. The cool morning breeze almost painfully sweeping across his overheated skin, half-remembered images attempting to cling to his mind's eye, a strange, _other_ feeling in his chest. He forced his breathing to slow, and closed his eyes, letting his emotions even out. And that was when he realized what the strange feeling in his chest was, for the sensation was not his own.

He sat straight up, hand coming up to grip over his heart. His true-match. Somehow, he'd finally made the connection and had his dream. Why now? How? And most importantly, _where were they?_

The images of his dream returned to him then, the red strands, the many fingers, the eyes – his true-match was an alien.

Jaal glanced about the room, seeing for the first time the concerned gazes of his family wondering what had disturbed him so. In each one, he saw the damage done by the Kett, saw battle scars, saw empty spaces where a beloved friend, parent, or sibling had once stood. Saw the fear and despair that seemed to cling to them at times.

This wasn't going to be easy.

The reactions to his news were expected from some, and quite surprising from others. Many of his siblings and cousins had made their distrust of humans obvious, and some had been vocal about the very opposite. His true-mother had come as the biggest shock to him. Due to the loss of his father, he had truly expected her to be outraged, or saddened, by the revelation. Instead, with his confession still hanging in the air between them, Sahuna sat beside her son and took his hand.

"Jaal," she began, conveying nothing but love and support. "I admit I am afraid for you my son. You and your true-match will face many challenges – more than possibly anyone you know. Others will be ruthless in attempts to keep you apart. I wish I could keep you from the pain of this future, but it will come no matter how I deny it.

"But this alien, whoever they are, is your true-match. And that means they will love you beyond reason my son. Love can overcome anything, and I know you will come out the other end stronger for the challenges you faced. As far as I am concerned, your true-match is already family." She finished with a wide smile, and Jaal had to embrace her. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of belonging.

Jaal felt it, the day his match came crashing down to Aya. One moment, the connection between he and his true-match was nothing more than a subtle sort of ache in his chest, easily enough ignored if he was busy. The next, fear was gripping at his heart, and a sense of determination. He instantly knew his match was close, and in danger. Frustratingly though, he did not know _why,_ or where they were, and there was nothing he could do beyond undeservedly snapping at those who came near him. He regretted his actions but was too on edge to care much. They were near Aya, and that was all he knew.

It occurred to him that while his family had made their opinion on her species known, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it himself. His first instinct was to believe that their species didn't matter – fate wouldn't pick someone that he wasn't meant to be with, Angaran or not. But he'd heard varying stories about humans, both good and bad, and it was impossible to tell how many were true. He'd never met one in person either; the only reason he'd known what species his true-match was was due to secondhand descriptions of them. If he was being honest with himself, he had no idea how he felt about humans, beyond natural curiosity.

With how fast the echoed emotions in his chest were growing though, it didn't seem he would have much time to figure that out before his match appeared.

A commotion goes through the city the moment the ship is seen, and Jaal is already on his way out when Evfra orders him to investigate. He is nervous and excited, and he feels similar emotions echoing from his match, to the point that it is difficult to tell where the human's emotions end and his own begin. It's exhilarating, knowing he's so near to them after all these years, after thinking something was wrong with him for so long. ( _And perhaps something is_ ,a part of him wonders, _being matched with an alien._ He shoves these thoughts away.)

When he comes around the corner and sees them – her, he realizes – a brief start goes through him, foggy memories from dreams suddenly becoming shatteringly clear as he finally gets a proper look at her face. Red tendrils are pulled back away from her foreign pink skin, and there are black marks checkering up one side of her neck. He's too far away to see the color of her eyes, and finds himself drifting closer, distractedly telling Paaran that Evfra sent him when she attempts to stop him. He gets close to her and feels his heart jump, unsure if it his own reaction or hers, if it is from fear or anticipation. He's uncertain and afraid and she's staring at him with blue-green eyes and he realizes belatedly he needs a reason for having gotten this close to her.

"Aya is hidden, protected," he says, going for the obvious question. "What are you doing here?"

"This, uh, wasn't the plan," she replies, and he's surprised how much he likes her voice. It's low and warm. "Landing here on fire, and out of the blue. I'm, er, deeply sorry. For that."

Being so near to her, even for as short a time as he was, is helping him separate her emotions from his own. They have a more distinct feeling to them now – one he could not begin to describe if he tried, only able to say that it felt like _her_. He feels her frustration and even the jittery flutters in her stomach. That combined with her awkward words makes him suspicious that she isn't used to speaking so formally. It's promising that she makes the effort though, he thinks.

"Good," he answers. "Because that would have been a very bad plan." He instinctively makes the joke in response to her nerves, the desire to make her smile an automated response to his match's distress. She doesn't quite manage one, but lets out a huff of air that's almost a laugh and he feels surprised amusement flurry through her. He gives her a tight grin in response. Briefly he wonders if humans even _do_ smile.

Through all of their encounter, he feels no echoing emotion that would suggest she is aware of their connection. She is on edge certainly, but who wouldn't be given the situation? A morbid thought occurs to him – did humans even have true-matches? And even if they did, did they have a way of finding them the way Angara did? Was it possible that while she was his true-match perhaps he wasn't hers? There were too many questions and no answers, and considering there are much more important things going on at the moment than the fate of he and his true-match, he can't even try to find said answers. He grimaces and turns away.

"Evfra will want to meet you," he says over his shoulder. "We will wait for you in the Resistance Headquarters."


End file.
